The Colored Egg Mystery
by xxjointherocksxx
Summary: Harry is drudging away in the middle of Double Potions when he comes across a mysterious object... a mysterious squishy object, with pink polka dots! His life will never be the same... R&R please! New Penname Formerly HPstar
1. Something Squishy

**Disclaimer: we do not own any characters, ideas, etc. from Harry Potter.**

The Colored Egg Mystery

"This could have been a perfectly fine day, but NO. This is just our luck. First McGonagall's huge essay, then _this_," Ron said exasperatedly.

"Ron, it's pulverized wing of dung beetle, _not_ masticated bat guano! How many times must I tell you?"

It was a gray Tuesday afternoon. Harry, Ron, and Hermione could be found in their least favorite class of all time—Double Potions, and Hermione was correcting Ron for the third time in a ten-minute period.

"Stop nagging, already!"

"Do you _want_ to poison whoever drinks this? Your love potion wouldn't even make an adequate toilet bowl cleaner!"

Harry was getting heartily sick of their constant bickering. To escape the hot, steamy area around his cauldron through which insults were now flying, he got up in disgust and made his way to the store cupboard. But as he walked through the hectic classroom, he stepped on something—something _squishy_.

This did nothing to improve his mood. This was all he needed! First he had to deal with being the only survivor of the Killing Curse, and now he steps on something squishy on the Potions classroom floor! All Harry had ever asked for was to be normal, but now he knew that it was not to be. Sighing with weariness towards his lot in life, he bent over and examined the mysterious object. What he would find would change his life forever.

It was—an egg.

But not just _any_ egg. A _yellow_ egg—with pink polka dots. It was only slightly damaged by his foot, little cracks spiderwebbing across its face. He picked it up.

"Hey, Potter!"

Harry turned slowly, egg in hands. Draco Malfoy, his arch-nemesis, was staring at him with a look of unmistakable glee.

"So…. this your latest tactic in the battle against the Dark Lord? Oooooh, I'm scared now! An Easter egg! I'm dying in fear!" Malfoy looked more in danger of dying of laughter.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy." Harry said, stuffing the egg into his pocket.

"Oh, hiding the egg are we? Don't want others knowing about your big secret?" taunted Malfoy.

Harry decided to play Malfoy's game. "Yep, that's right. Aw, shucks, now you know the big secret. Perhaps I should remove your memory?" Harry unsheathed his wand from his robes.

Instantly the room went quiet. Malfoy pulled out his wand as well. They eyed each other like two vultures vying for the same piece of dead meat.

"Give me the egg," Malfoy said quietly, dangerously.

"Never!" cried Harry, as if in battle.

But almost as instantly, Snape appeared, almost out of nowhere.

"And what have we here, boys?" he sneered. He pointed at Malfoy. "Explain."

"Well, sir, Potter here has something of mine, and I was merely asking for it back, and Potter pulled out his wand on me without any provocation whatsoever, sir! As did I, I admit, but solely in self defense."

"And what exactly is this item?" inquired Snape. "Show me," he added dangerously, when Harry looked rebellious.

Harry tried not to laugh as he revealed the egg. "Here you are, sir," he said good-naturedly. "I was only picking it up."

To Harry's amazement, the expression on Snape's face flickered from stunned amazement to absolute venom, a much more extreme expression than that with which he normally looked at his least favorite pupil. "Detention, Potter," he breathed, "and if I ever catch you thieving from my prized pupils again, you might want to wish you were never born."

Harry groaned inwardly, but to his astonishment, Snape completely forgot to demand that he hand the egg to Malfoy. What was going on?


	2. Snape's New Identity?

**Disclaimer: We do not own any characters or concepts from HP, if we did, we would not be writing this Fan Fic, due to the fact that we would be rolling in cash. **

Harry returned to Gryffindor common room, exhausted, sweaty, and cursing Snape under his breath. "Of all things he could have set for detention… it had to be _that._"

Harry had just returned from the dungeons. Potion-making—already his least favorite task—had been his occupation during the four terrible hours that he had spent in detention. He had been boiling a series of oddly colorful potions (since when did Snape like vibrant colors like pink and sunny yellow? Harry wondered) in a huge cauldron over excruciating heat.

"What's wrong, mate?" asked Ron.

"Oh, nothing, just Snape's usual poisonous ways," Harry said sardonically.

Ron groaned sympathetically.

Hermione paused in her perusal of _A Way with Wands_. "What did you do this time?"

"I didn't _do_ anything," Harry retorted, "I was escaping your and Ron's little catfight, and I tripped over an egg, of all things. Malfoy saw me with it, made some smart remarks, and I pulled out my wand on him."

"So you _did_ do something."

"No! Malfoy said the egg was his, and Snape, being the vile git that he is, gave me detention!"

Hermione shrugged, and began reading once again.

Ron rolled his eyes at her. "Do you still have that egg? Chuck it over here."

Harry obliged. For some seconds Ron stared in disbelief at the cheerful yellow shape, swathed in pink polka dots. Then finally he spoke.

"Wow."

"Ron—"

"I can _definitely_ see why Malfoy was hankering over _that._"

"Er, why?"

"Well, ferrets and rabbits are related, aren't they? He probably got it from his long-lost love, the Easter Bunny! Or was that who _you_ got it from?"

"Shut up," Harry said exasperatedly, "The Dursley's never let me so much as touch an Easter egg."

"_Please_. I'm _trying_ to read over here," said Hermione from behind her book.

Just then, Seamus wandered over. He stopped short and stared when he caught sight of the egg, sitting smugly on the palm of Harry's hand. "Uh, Harry, who were you with last night? Anyone with feathers?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "No, I found this on the Potions classroom floor."

Seamus looked surprised. "What on earth was it doing there?"

Ron shrugged. "Your guess is as good as ours. Hey! Maybe Snape's the Easter Bunny!"

Harry laughed, but only halfheartedly. He was having trouble getting that poisonous look Snape had given him out of his head.

Meanwhile, in the darkness of the deserted Slytherin common room, Malfoy was pacing up and down with agitation. "What if they find out?" he muttered. "I'll get blamed for not taking it back instantly, and I will have failed my master!"

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	3. The Dream

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, we have tarried too long, and so we are not the great and famous JK Rowling, and therefore, we own none of these characters… ideas… etc.

A/N: Hello. We are minute aqueous arthropods, living at the bottom of an obscure crevasse in the South Pacific. Unlike many of our kind, however, we do not live on bacteria. Instead, we live on something much more unusual: REVIEWS for a certain _wonderful_ story called the Colored Egg Mystery. HINT HINT! Save the arthropods!

A/N #2: If you are forced to go running to the dictionary, keep this in mind: it's Sarah's fault!

It was another dreary day, and Harry, Ron, and Hermione found themselves once again in Potions class. At least it was only Potions and not Double Potions, meaning that Harry only had to endure half the normal amount of bickering. Still, this wasn't very reassuring.

"Hermione, would you _please_ stop biting my head off?"

"Ronald, I haven't even said anything yet!"

"Why don't you _keep_ it that way for a change…hey! What's this?"

Ron picked up a green egg with white stripes that was lying next to his cauldron. "Happy Easter," it cheerfully proclaimed in black lettering.

"Hey, Harry, look at this! I found another egg!"

Harry swung himself around, nearly knocking over his cauldron. "Whoa. Okay, nothing spilled. _Another egg?_" he said with bewilderment, at the same time as… Malfoy.

Malfoy, however, had a look of shock on his face. He looked the way someone would look if they had toiled away for hours at a tiresome chore, then upon completing it, seen that all traces of their work had disappeared.

Harry retired to his dormitory earlier than usual that night, due to the fact that Wood had kept them at Quidditch practice for a torturous five hours, his worst practice yet. Harry immediately gave in to the beckonings of sleep.

_He was flying… flying over the hills, chasing the Snitch. He kept soaring, past Hogwarts, into another town. He reached out and caught the Snitch, feeling the burst of exhilaration he always felt after such an event. In his preoccupation, he almost ran into an enormous, ill-kept house. This house seemed oddly familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. _

_The dream changed… he found himself inside the house, standing in front of a door that was ajar. His curiosity began to get the better of him, and he silently snuck up to the door to see what was in the room beyond. _

_It appeared to be a kitchen, with an ancient stone floor and an enormous scrubbed wooden table in the center. A fire was crackling in the grate at the far end of the room. On the fire was a massive black cauldron. Harry was about to go in, but jumped back in alarm to see that there was already a man in the room. A sallow-skinned, hook-nosed man, with greasy black hair…_

_He was brewing a colorful potion, muttering some sort of incantation under his breath. Harry couldn't understand it, but knowing his Potions Master, it had to be something… evil. He thought it was something in another language, for he couldn't hear anything that sounded remotely like the spells he was used to. _

_Harry watched for a while, stunned. What was his most hated teacher of all time, Severus Snape, doing in the kitchen of the Riddle House? he asked himself. _

_And then he heard it. _

_The high, cold voice, the voice that made his hair stand on end, the voice that had uttered the words that killed his parents._

_The voice… of Voldemort. _

_But the hated voice spoke the last words on earth Harry would have expected._

"_You imbecile! Red #42, _not_ Blue Lake!"_

"_Yes, Master…"_

_And in the corner, silently watching, stood a boy with white-blond hair. _

Harry awoke with a start. "Now _that_ gets all the points for being the weirdest dream I've ever had at Hogwarts, and that's saying something," he thought aloud. "What on earth is Blue Lake?"

Ron stirred in his sleep. "What's wrong, mate?" he yawned, "Bad dream?"

Harry looked at his watch, which showed him- he started again- that it was 1:23. He lay down in his bed again. "It wasn't that bad, just…. just strange. I'll tell you and Hermione about it at breakfast tomorrow. Go back to sleep."

Harry closed his eyes, and drifted into a _much_ more peaceful slumber.

The next morning at breakfast, Harry held fast to his promise, and told Ron and Hermione about the peculiar dream. They didn't know what to make of it either. While they were mulling it over, Harry started listening to the conversation at the Staff Table while helping himself to some kippers. It was all perfectly innocent: Dumbledore was simply commenting on the scrumptiousness of the scrambled eggs. It was directly after the harmless remark that Harry noticed a strange occurrence, though Dumbledore did not: Snape, sitting to Dumbledore's left, choked and coughed into his pancakes.

Harry was busy being amused at this, when Ron suddenly spoke.

"Hermione, look at Malfoy!" he said.

"Hmm?" she said as she poured milk on her oatmeal. "Oh. He's just coughing, for goodness' sake."

"And Snape- _Snape_ was coughing too…" Harry said slowly. He was beginning to put two and two together.

Hermione wasn't convinced. "So? It's just a coincidence. That's nothing to get excited over."

A/N #3: In case you didn't understand our hints, we'll give ourselves away now: hit the  
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	4. Hermione's Pain

**Disclaimer: If we didn't own the characters/ideas last time, do you think that we would own them this time around? Well, if you happen to, you are wrong. So there.**

"And Snape- _Snape_ was coughing too…" Harry said slowly. He was beginning to put two and two together.

Hermione wasn't convinced. "So? It's just a coincidence. That's nothing to get excited over."

Harry frowned. "You don't find it odd that Snape and Malfoy start coughing at the same time?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. I don't," she said frankly.

Ron looked confused. "I'm not taking sides until Harry explains what he's talking about."

Harry groaned in exasperation. "Were you listening to Dumbledore?"

"No," said Ron and Hermione in unison.

"He made a comment on the_ eggs!"_

"So…"

"C'mon! _What did we find in the Potions room?_"

Ron continued to stare at Harry with a dumbfounded look on his face.

"An egg." said Hermione. "Oh, for heavens sake, you aren't suggesting that the two incidents are related, are you?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Why yes, as a matter of fact, I am."

At this point, a look of understanding washed over Ron's face. "_OH!_" he said, "You're saying that Malfoy and Snape…?"

"… are in on the egg mystery together, yes!"

Hermione frowned at the pair of them. "Don't be foolish! I'm sure it's just some person playing a dumb trick!" she said. Harry noticed, to his surprise, that Hermione was looking a bit confused. Then suddenly, she picked up her books, and ran out of the Great Hall—looking almost as though she were on the verge of tears.

"Girls… barking mad…"

"Yeah.…" said Harry, wondering how on earth he had managed to upset her.

"So, mate, what do you suggest we do? Spy? Distract and deploy… mate?"

Harry was still staring at the place where Hermione had rounded the corner. "Huh? What? Oh yeah… Malfoy."

"I say we sneak up to his dormitory, break in, and force some information out of his ferret mouth!" cried Ron, standing up, brandishing his fist at a very weirded-out Seamus.

"Ron… were _you_ with someone with feathers last night?"

"What? Oh… sorry…" said Ron, going redder than his hair and sitting down again, "Got a little carried away…"

"Well… I dunno what we ought to do… see Hagrid?"

Ron looked doubtful. "Hmm… well… we could do that…it just seemed like more fun to do all that Auror sort of stuff. Y'know… break down the door and start an inquiry…"

At break, Harry and Ron went to see Hagrid in an attempt to get answers.

Hagrid opened the door, and right away pulled the two of them into a bone-breaking hug. "Been too long… been too long!"

"Hagrid! Let us go! We saw you _last week!_" choked out Ron.

"Hang on… where's Hermione?"

"Um…"

"_Ron?_"

"I didn't do anything! I swear! If you'd let me go, I'd tell you that was why we were here!"

"Huh?" Hagrid let go of them, and they all went inside.

Inside, Hagrid offered them some treats, which they declined as nicely as possible. "So… wa's this all about? What's wrong wi' Hermione?"

Ron shrugged. "She was all funny this morning, completely bonkers… looked like she'd been… I dunno… _Imperiused_ or something."

Hagrid laughed. "Hermione? Imperiused? Now tha's just crazy. Hermione could get herself outta a spot like tha'"

Harry shrugged. "Also, we keep finding… _these_." He rummaged around in his robe pocket and produced the yellow egg with pink polka dots. "Any ideas?"

Hagrid laughed. "C'mon you two, you solve mysteries way darker than _this_. Isn't this one a lil' trivial for yeh? Yer losin' yer touch!"

"We are not!" said Ron indignantly.

It had started to rain, crystal droplets trickling down the windowpanes. It was relatively dark in the girls' dormitory, dark enough that one would hardly notice the solitary girl, sitting on her bed and crying. She stood suddenly in a burst of agitation, and ran to the window, which reflected her pale face and thick brown hair. She wrung her hands, utterly confused. "What's wrong with me?" she choked. "I'm _never_ like this! I don't remember where I was for the last hour… what's going _on_!"

**A/N: Now, as we have so politely asked each chapter, we ask every reader who strays across our story, to please REVIEW! **


	5. A Mystery Solved Now what?

**Disclaimer: We decided to be different this time. Here's a little quiz for you: True or False: We own everything from Harry Potter. **

**If you answered True, you are either under the impression that we are JK Rowling, or you are just plain bizarre. For those of you who know that we are not JK Rowling from earlier chapters, or simply made an educated guess and said False, you were right. **

It was, thankfully, the _end_ of Potions class on a bright, sunny Wednesday afternoon, and Harry was gratefully putting his potions ingredients away. Snape was prowling around, inspecting the cleanliness of the desks. "Weasley, you didn't finish clearing up your beetle exoskeletons. Ten points from Gryffindor if they don't get cleaned up _now,_" said Snape in his typical devilish manner.

Ron grumbled curses under his breath as he turned away from the door (and freedom) to pick up his mess, but several years of experience had served him well, and he had his desk sparklingly clean in record time. Snape observed the clock and sneered. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Weasley—you didn't clean it up in less than ten seconds."

Ron was about to say something foul, but shut his mouth, feeling that detention with Snape was not on his list of ideal evening plans. He, Harry, and Hermione headed for the door, but Snape stopped them short by saying curtly, "Granger, you are to stay with me. It will only take a few minutes of your 'precious' time."

Ron and Harry looked at each other with surprise, then at Hermione with sympathy, and left the room, embracing their freedom with open arms. Seamus, who was walking by, saw them: "All right!" he said resignedly, throwing his hands in the air in mock surrender. "Who was with someone with feathers? Ron or Harry? Tell me all!"

Harry shook his head. "Seamus, this is getting kinda old, you know."

Ron, however, was whispering into Seamus' ear, "It was Harry. Just look at that dreamy look in his eyes. But don't tell anyone- it's an emotional time for him right now." He laid his hand over his chest dramatically.

Seamus nodded seriously, then approached Harry, and laid his hand on Harry's shoulder in a fatherly manner. "Harry, mate, anytime you wanna talk, I'm here for you. Just remember that."

Harry gave him a funny look. "Er, I'll- I'll be sure to remember that, Seamus. Thanks," he said. "But guys, that's beside the point."

"Harry, its no use denying your troubles. You need to face them for what they really are, out in the open."

"Shut up, Ron. The point _is,_ why is Snape keeping _Hermione_ after class?"

Seamus had left. Harry rolled his eyes after him. "And remind me to tell Seamus next I see him that I'm _not_ having romantic relations with a chicken – or anything else for that matter."

Ron shook his head, "Mate… mate…"

"SHUT UP! Let's go to the library, and see if we can find anything on the subject of that Blue Lake thing from my dream…"

Ron shrugged. "Whatever. Only, if you'd come out and-"

"NO!"

"Your loss."

oOo

In the library, Harry and Ron were not having much success. Not even Madam Pince knew anything about Blue Lake or Red #42. The two were just about to go back to the dormitory when Hermione showed up, looking strangely disoriented. Harry was concerned. "Hermione… you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," Ron said, "what did that foul, greasy haired, idiotic &#! --"

"_Ron_!"

"I mean git – do to you?"

"Um, nothing," Hermione said vaguely. "What are you guys doing _here?_"

"What? So we can't use the library now? Are we invading your territory?" said Ron with mock seriousness.

"No – well, actually, yes, but you two only come up here for two reasons: to copy my homework or to look up something illegal."

"Hey! You were always with us! Need I remind you who actually got the book _Moste Potente Potions _for us?" said Harry indignantly.

"The teachers would be suspicious of anyone but me- you needed me for that one."

"Who cares?" Ron said. "Point is, we aren't looking for homework to copy, or for anything illegal. We're looking for anything we can find about 'Blue Lake' – you know, from Harry's dream?"

Hermione suddenly looked confused again. "What do you mean, Blue Lake? You mean Blue _Mountain_ Lake. It's in Arkansas."

"No," said Harry, "I think it's something Muggles use. Or so Ron says."

"Creevy said it too!" Ron said defensively.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Ron guessed that on our way here. After Pince wouldn't tell us anything, we asked some Muggleborns, and Colin was the first one we saw," Harry explained.

"Do you know anything about it?" Ron asked Hermione.

She shook her head. "No. Never heard of it."

Ron groaned. "You just don't want to help us because you think we're being stupid to investigate these eggs!"

"No! I swear! I don't know what you're talking about!" Hermione cried, looking under threat.

"Yes you do! Stop being thick!" Ron said accusingly.

"I am _not_ being thick!" said Hermione, running out of the library, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"No yelling in the library, Granger," Madam Pince called after her. "And that goes for you too, Weasley."

Ron turned back to Harry, and added in a quieter voice, "She gets more barking by the day, I'm telling you."

"WHAT?" Madam Pince shrieked. Brandishing her feather duster, she chased them out of the library.

"I meant Hermione!" Ron yelled back at her. "So," he added to Harry as they walked down the hall, "since we had no luck there, I say we do that Auror stuff on Malfoy now."

Harry shook his head. "You and your Auror deal. No, I say we start with Snape."

"_Wha_'?"

"You heard me. We'll just pretend you left your book in there or something."

"Why _mine_?" Ron moaned.

"Because mine's right here," grinned Harry, pulling his out of his bag.

"Oh, crap," said Ron, looking in his bookbag, "I _did_ leave my book in there."

"See?"

oOo

Harry and Ron approached the dungeons, and just as in the house in Harry's dream, the door was ajar. Ron started to whimper.

"C'mon. There're no spiders, Ron, what could you possibly be whimpering about?" said Harry.

"I dunno. It seemed like a whimpering sort of moment."

Harry cautiously opened the door a little wider. Snape was inside, and so was Malfoy. Snape was once again muttering that strange spell, only now that Harry could hear it clearly, he realized that it wasn't a spell at all.

"After preparing the water and vinegar, add the '_bright Eastery color_' of your choice." Snape shuddered. He added what looked like orange food coloring to the contents of the cauldron. Upon seeing the pair enter the room, he gave an uncharacteristic start. "What do you mean by coming here uninvited?" he snarled. "I assure you that I did not set detentions for you this time… unless that is what you came to receive…"

"No, sir!" Ron said quickly. "I- I left my book here. Just came to pick it up. Sorry if we interrupted anything."

"Perhaps you are referring to this?" Snape sneered, gesturing toward the cauldron that was now emitting orange steam; "I am simply preparing lessons for… first years. Perhaps you could benefit from them. Now _go_!"

Malfoy laughed. "You 'forgot your book,' huh, _weasel_?" Ron's ears went red with either anger or embarrassment; it was hard to tell. "What did you _really_ come here for?" Malfoy's eyes glinted with malice.

"So… is Malfoy helping with these 'first-year lessons'?" Harry asked innocently.

"That, Potter, is none of your business. Not that _that_ has ever stopped you from sticking your _unattractively_ long nose, which seems to be a characteristic of the male members of your family, in things that shouldn't be meddled with…"

At this, Harry broke. "What, like your nose isn't uglier, sir?" he added with mock politeness.

Ron grabbed his book and ran for his life. He had no desire to witness Harry's predicament, so he waited quietly outside the classroom.

Approximately thirty seconds to a minute later, Harry joined him, looking considerably the worse for wear. He rubbed the back of his neck painfully. "Maybe I shouldn't have said that," he said, still attempting a smile.

"Mate, what happened?"

"Nothing much. He kind of… pinned me against the wall… threatened to destroy the only remaining member of the Potter family… the usual stuff."

Ron shook his head. "C'mon. Let's go back to the Common Room." He began to walk down the corridor, deep in thought. Harry followed.

"What could he be doing with 'bright Eastery colors of his choice'?" said Ron.

"He's dying Easter eggs," Harry said quietly.

"Huh?"

"While Snape was shaking me and pounding me against the wall, I got a better look in that cauldron. And it was so _obvious_, too – how we kept finding the eggs on the _Potions_ floor, and Blue Lake and Red #42 are obviously dye colors. Snape must have been dying eggs in my dream, too! But then… but then _Voldemort_ must be in on it somehow!"

Ron shuddered. "Will you _please_ stop saying the name!"

"No. Quick – let's go tell Hermione! Maybe she'll help us once she finds out that we were right."

**A/N: We are now lions living in the African savannah, and we do not live off of antelope, or any other source of meat for that matter. We live off of your _kind, whole-hearted_ reviews! You know the drill… (And if you don't review, we will make an exception to our diet and eat you instead.)**


	6. Hermione's Pain Explained

**Disclaimer: We still own nothing, and never will. So there. Turns around, arms crossed **

"He's dying Easter eggs," Harry said quietly.

"Huh?"

"While Snape was shaking me and pounding me against the wall, I got a better look in that cauldron. And it was so _obvious_, too – how we kept finding the eggs on the _Potions_ floor, and Blue Lake and Red #42 are obviously dye colors. Snape must have been dying eggs in my dream, too! But then… but then _Voldemort_ must be in on it somehow!"

Ron shuddered. "Will you _please_ stop saying the name!"

"No. Quick – let's go tell Hermione! Maybe she'll help us once she finds out that we were right."

Ron snorted. "Okay. Pig's snout."

The door to the Gryffindor common room opened. Students were milling around. Hermione was sitting in a chair in front of the fire, with her head on her hands, staring blankly into space. Harry and Ron approached her.

"Uh, Ron, maybe _I_ should be the one to talk; you might… er… screw things up."

Ron looked indignant. "What? How would _I_ possibly screw _anything_ up?"

Harry laid his hand on his best mate's shoulder. "Just trust me, Ron. You would. You would find a way." Ron looked disgruntled, but didn't argue.

Harry walked around the chair. "Er… Hermione?"

She jumped. "Is it time for the Transfiguration exam already?" she said, eyes wide with worry.

Ron stared. "Hermione… the exams are _four months away…_"

"Oh, yes… of course they are… silly of me…" Hermione ran her fingers through her hair.

"Listen, Hermione—we think we know what Snape is doing," said Harry. Hermione didn't respond.

"He's dying eggs!" cried Ron triumphantly in the pause that followed. "We _told_ you!"

"Ron…" Harry cautioned, giving him a glare to shut him up. Ron obliged.

"Hermione… are you okay? Maybe you need rest?" said Harry concernedly, disregarding Ron's previous comment.

Hermione stood slowly and shakily, and stared at Ron. "What?"

Ron looked down and mumbled "Nothing… nothing…"

Hermione screwed up her eyes and shook her head, an action that would have made her fall over backward, had Harry not been there to catch her. "Whoa… careful…" said Harry, gently helping her into a vertical stance. He looked at Ron worriedly. "Maybe you should go to bed," he suggested to Hermione. He was beginning to be _really_ worried now…

"No! _No_! I'm not going back there!" she cried, wild-eyed.

"What's wrong with going to bed?" asked Ron, bewildered.

oOo

The bell rang, ending Potions class. Harry was so wound up with leaving, that he hardly took notice of Snape saying "Granger, kindly remain behind," or the fact that he had left his wand behind on his desk.

"Hang on Ron, I left my wand back there," said Harry when they were halfway down the hall.

"Bad luck, mate," said Ron. Harry doubled back to grab the forgotten object.

He opened the door hesitantly, then walked into the room.

He had seen many things in his life at Hogwarts, many strange and frightening things, but nothing he had seen disturbed him quite so deeply as the scene that lay before him now.

Snape had his wand out, and was pointing it at Hermione's heart.

The fiery anger against Snape that had always smoldered in Harry's chest ignited, flared, burned out of control. Snape, the evil, twisted Snape, was the reason Hermione had been looking brainwashed, disoriented… why she had been bursting into tears… Snape was responsible for Hermione's unhappiness, and that Harry couldn't abide. Without a thought to the consequences, he snatched his wand from the desk, and pointed it at Snape.

"You hurt her and I'll… I'll…"

Snape laughed softly. "And you'll what, Potter? I don't think _you_ possess the courage or initiative to harm me."

Harry did not put down his wand. "Let her go! What could a vile git such as yourself want with her?"

Snape laughed again. "Potter, do I detect that you harbor _feelings_ for this filthy little Mudblood? Young love… takes strange turns, does it not?"

Harry took a step closer. His wand was still leveled at Snape, but he was furious to see that the hand holding it was shaking.

"_Let—her—go._" He stared straight into Snape's eyes.

Snape acted as if Harry was below his notice. Coolly, he turned back to Hermione. "_Imperio!_" he said lazily. Hermione's eyes glazed over.

"_Hermione!_" Harry cried. He glared at Snape with the bitterest hatred he had felt in a long time, but his hand was deathly steady now. "Perhaps you didn't understand me," he said quietly. "If you don't let her go… I'll hex you. I swear to God, I will."

Snape now turned his wand to Harry. Hermione slumped against the wall. "You will repeat what you saw to no one… is this understood?" Snape said dangerously; then he seemed to reconsider. "Never mind. Perhaps that simple order is too hard for you. Allow me to make your job easier. _Imperio_!"

Harry's mind suddenly felt delightfully weightless. No angry, hateful thoughts crowded his brain now… in fact, he no longer had any thoughts at all. Floating through the calm blankness, a voice, Snape's voice, came through. _You will not tell anyone what you have witnessed. You no longer know that Hermione Granger was here. Leave. _

Harry felt as if the best thing in the world would be to simply walk toward the beckoning door. If he simply walked toward the door, everything would be perfection…

A blur of color in front of him – Snape's cruel face swam into view. He felt another surge of hatred…

_Leave, Potter. You'll find it involves walking toward the door._

Harry screwed up his concentration, and fought as hard as he could against the terrible blankness threatening to envelop him. He had had a purpose for staying here – he wasn't supposed to leave…

_NOW, POTTER!_

Harry struggled harder than he ever had in his life to keep the Potions room in view, but the terrible blankness was creeping in, seeping into the corners of his consciousness… Exhausted, he gave in… but just before the blankness wiped all sight from him entirely, he saw the unconscious body of Hermione, lying slumped against the wall… and remembered _exactly_ what he'd come for. Triumphantly he shook the blankness off, jabbed his wand at Snape, and yelled, "_STUPEFY!_"

Harry didn't give Snape a second glance; he ran over to Hermione.

He crouched over her, and pulled her head onto his lap. "_Ennervate_," he muttered, pointing his wand at her. "C'mon Hermione… wake up… _please_…" He still felt lightheaded, but focused on staying alert. Hermione was in need of care- not him.

"Not so fast, Potter," said a malicious voice behind him. And it wasn't Snape's voice.

Harry turned slowly – and was blinded by searing, excruciating pain in his scar. He screwed up his eyes in agony, then, with a tremendous effort, opened them.

And found himself staring into the faces of Severus Snape and Lord Voldemort.

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	7. Splat!

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Harry grabbed his wand and stood to face the murderer of his parents. "How did you get in?" he asked, trying to hide his fear and shock.

"Harry, Harry… I am the most powerful wizard ever to grace this pitiful world. I think you could answer that for yourself, if you put your limited brainpower to the test."

"You realize that you have entered the place in which the man who can rival your powers resides?"

"Harry, of course I did…" said Voldemort, calmly. "I was able to get the old codger out of the school for a bit. It was no extraordinary test of my powers, I assure you…"

"Your powers don't seem to be as 'extraordinary' as they once were," Harry said, with bitter defiance; "What have you been doing lately – dying Easter eggs, isn't it?"

"Ah, the child has finally caught on…" said Voldemort. "Well, that is a most fascinating story. One that even involves your little friend over there." He gestured toward Hermione with open disgust on his face.

Harry followed Voldemort's gaze. "What's Hermione got to do with all this?" he asked, slowly. He needed to buy time, come up with a plan – but what could he do against the most evil wizard of all time, and another wizard who wasn't exactly deficient in evilness either? All he had was his wand and an unconscious Hermione…

"Your little Mudblood girlfriend, isn't she? Severus tells me things, Harry. The Mudblood has proved very useful. She has been doing many things behind your back."

"Like what?"

"These eggs, Harry, are rather singular ones. They have been hardboiled and dyed in unusual potions for many days, the result being that they counteract the protective spells put on Hogwarts. My dear servant, Severus, has been kind enough to make them for me."

"Right."

"You asked why your girlfriend was involved. You see, we needed as many eggs as possible to fully dissipate the powerful magical protections, and they needed to be placed in many places around the school. Your lovely Miss Granger helped us in that respect."

Harry wondered vaguely why Voldemort was telling him all this. He found it odd that he was having any sort of conversation with Voldemort, much less one about Easter eggs, but he decided to use Voldemort's willingness to talk to his advantage. "How did Malfoy get involved?" he asked.

"Draco has been our little patrolman. He makes sure that no one is around when the Mudblood is hiding the eggs, and that no one has taken them. In this last respect, however, he has failed twice. He will be punished."

Harry didn't feel the need to reveal that he and Ron had been the ones to find those two eggs.

"You can't fool me, _Riddle_. You're here for a reason. Feel like sharing?"

"Indeed I do, Harry, but they do not need to be explained around young minds such as your own."

"_STUPEFY!"_ yelled a feminine voice from behind Harry. A red jet of light whizzed past Harry's left shoulder, catching Snape in the chest and sending him, stunned, to the floor. Harry whirled around. Hermione was standing up, looking amazed at her own daring, but pleased. "That felt good."

Voldemort's lamplike red eyes were regarding her with an amused air. "My, my, the Mudblood harbors talent behind that uninspiring exterior," he sneered. He turned lazily to Snape. "I don't need him. I pride myself in being capable of taking on two teenage wizards." He turned to Harry and Hermione. "Well," he continued nastily, "This has been a fun little chat. My time, however, is rather limited; and yours, I'm afraid, is up. Stand still while I kill you; it will make everything so much cleaner."

Harry shook his head. "Nah." He pulled out his wand and was struck by a last, desperate idea. "_Accio eggs!_"

He could not have foreseen what an effect that simple command would have. He and Hermione watched in amazement, then held out their arms as every last egg in every "Eastery color" you could imagine zoomed into the room.

Harry's Quidditch skills served him well. He caught one (which was a delightful shade of lilac and adorned with a blue bunny) and, without stopping to think, threw it as hard as he could at the hated face of Voldemort.

For a moment time seemed to slow down. Harry and Hermione watched together as the egg soared gracefully on its trajectory towards Voldemort's face.

They hadn't anticipated that the egg would be uncooked.

With a crack and a squelch, the egg met its end on Voldemort's forehead. Slowly, the clear, gelatinous egg white dripped down his face; the yolk slid down as well, coming to rest with a plop in the white-fingered hand that had just sprung up to inspect the damage.

Harry and Hermione didn't stop to watch the rest. They ran.

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